


The Adventures of Tall and Grumpy (DALLON WEEKES)

by RockWithItWriting



Category: Dallon Weekes - Fandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Dallon Weekes - Freeform, Other, Panic! at the Disco - Freeform, reader - Freeform, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-23 00:59:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7460436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockWithItWriting/pseuds/RockWithItWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>requested by anonymous: Could you do a Dallon Weekes imagine where the girl is like 5'2" and he pokes fun at her for it cause he’s 6'4" and that’s a huge height difference? Like the fact that even on her tiptoes he still has to bend down to kiss her, the top of her head is only to his collarbone. That kind of thing. </p><p>word count: 338</p><p>warnings: none</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventures of Tall and Grumpy (DALLON WEEKES)

Dallon was the love of your life.

Except when he wasn’t.

Say, for example, when he put the jam you used for your toast on the top shelf. You know, the one you were too short to reach? Yeah, that one. He wasn’t the love of your life then, just a giraffe that lived in your house and sometimes kissed you and cuddled you.

Okay, so he was the love of your life, no matter what. But you still got mad when you had to call him away from the movie so he could get something down for you, sitting on the floor and pouting like a child. It was your thing, and it was his thing to come into the kitchen and laugh at you, calling you Grumpy.

“I’m not that short.” You snarled, near tears because it had been the fourth time that day you had to call Dallon somewhere to get something.

“Well you’re not tall,” He joked, easily reaching the paper towels, unwrapping them and refilling the holder that was attached to your cabinets. “Like I’m not short but I’m not tall. I’m in the middle. You’re short.”

“Dallon, knock it the fuck off,” You asked, not so politely, as you stood and dusted the back of your pants off. He turned to face you, a question on his face. Usually you weren’t so angry about things and it concerned Dallon.

“Hey,” He stopped you with one hand on your shoulder before you could push past him, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Well,” You huffed, “You did.” Dallon pulled you close, your nose colliding just below his collarbone, arms winding around his waist. Dallon was always so warm and he gave the best hugs; you could feel your anger melting away as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Then you pulled back, only slightly, to push yourself up on your toes to kiss him.

Dallon chuckled, still having to lean down to properly kiss you. And he did.

And everything was okay.


End file.
